


Dead of the Night

by DressedInDecay



Series: Dead of the Night [1]
Category: True Blood
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6487804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DressedInDecay/pseuds/DressedInDecay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessabell is visiting her grandmother for the summer like she does every year.</p><p>Eric Northman is running an 'errand' for his King, Bill Compton in regards to a missing vampire king.</p><p>Jessabell's blood is something different altogether and Eric will not stop until he finds out what makes her so special.</p><p>(Each chapter alternates perspectives between Jessabell and Eric.)</p><p>**All chapter titles are named after Sixx:A.M. songs from their first album: The Heroin Diaries.</p><p>Also: I wrote this several years ago, so my writing is not what it is today. I will try to make the necessary edits to make it more proper, but there's only so much I can change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pray For Me

I'm more than grateful to be back at my grandma's house like I am every summer. Finally, no work (except for the occasional helping to clean with the dishes), no stresses, almost all pay. The only thing I have to worry about is making sure I don't get too lazy to shower and getting an even tan. Which is exactly what I'm working on. I'm stretched out on my towel in my grandmother's back yard, on the freshly mowed grass. It's the smell of summer and I'm ecstatic.

"Jess!" Grandma calls from her doorstep. "Jess!" I roll over and pull my glasses down the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah!" I call back.

"What some Kool-Aid? It's fresh!"

"What flavor?"

"Orange."

"Yeah, that sounds great!"

I stretch myself back out, on my back this time. The sun's rays heat up my skin and I sigh like a content kitten. After a few moments I hear a knock at the kitchen window that looms over me. It's time to come in and get my drink. I wait five more minutes before I bounce up and inside. "Thanks Grandma!" I stand on my toes to kiss her cheek before I chug half the glass.

"Slow down, there. You don't want a tummy ache." She pats my flat belly for emphasis before disappearing into her living room to watch her afternoon soaps. I join her for an afternoon nap, now lazy from the heat from my tanning session.

We wake up in time for dinner: chicken-fried steak, fries, slaw, and rhubarb pie. Like every night after we eat, we go out and sit on the porch until the sun goes down. I swat several mosquitos off me, grumbling to myself.

"Trouble?" My mom asks. I shook her a look and she laughs.

"I'm going in." I announce as I push myself to my feet. Once inside, I flop on my bed and pull out my book. When I read, I completely immerse myself. And tonight, I especially did. When I look up from my page, the clock reads 2:42 AM. I blink and sit up, glancing around the room. Why didn't anyone come to say goodnight to me? I frown slightly before pushing myself up and padding out. The house is dark, dead quiet. Maybe they thought I'd fallen asleep and didn't want to wake me?

I retreat to the bedroom I'm staying in only to realize that I'm not tired in the least. Being in what I assume is the world's smallest town, I know I'm entirely safe. So, I decide to go out. I'm halfway down Main Street, enjoying the dull street lights and the brilliant moon above me when I hear a sort of shuffle behind me. I turn on my heel and stare down the street. Any signs of life have completely disintegrated with the light of the sun. I shrug and continue on my way to the park at the end of the next intersection.

I remove my shoes and pad across the soft, damp grass. I toss them down by the swing-set as I take my place on one of the swings. There's a gentle, familiar creak from the rusted chains and I glance up, past the top of the set, past the trees that crowd overhead to stare at a sliver of the sky, poked through with millions of little holes, sprinkling the black expanse with lights.

That's the last thing I can really remember before being yanked from the swing. And the pain. Oh, God, I could never forget the pain.


	2. Dead Man's Ballet

The day is long-drawn-out, plodding in its advances. I don't understand why I'm here in this middle of East-Jesus-nowhere North Dakota town. Of course the Louisiana King, all on his high horse has suggested I do some investigating into supposed vampire activity in this town as the king of this area has supposedly disappeared. I still don't understand why it's any of our business and why I have to be the one to investigate.

I run a business in Shreveport. A business that generates quite a bit of revenue. Revenue means more extravagancies and more women and more sex. Fucking is one of my greatest pastimes. Lying in a foreign coffin in an unfamiliar basement in some foreclosed, abandoned home in the fucking prairie is not my idea of a good time.

When the night finally dawns, I can not get out of this coffin fast enough. I stand on the front lawn and stretch, glancing around. It's dark but I can still hear children squealing and playing. This town is only about 800 people and everyone seems to know everyone, much like Bon Temps. So I suppose it's really no surprise that parents have no problem leaving their children on their porches and the streets after dark. If only they knew there's a monster like me prowling.

Of course, I'm not here for the tiny humans. I'm here to investigate the disappearance of Arnaldo Haysworth, North Dakota's king vampire. I find this place very peculiar, untouched by the news of our existence. They remain in an ignorant haze. I'm pretty sure it's not just this small ho-hum town either. I think the entire state is unaware of what lies beyond it's borders.

I saunter along the backstreets, listening to the conversations of the folk on their porches or lounging in lawn chairs in their back yard. I am a ghost; no one notices my presence amongst them. This pleases me to no end. Upon reaching Main Street, it's clear the night life is very active here. Bars are lit up, the pungent scent of alcohol wafting down the street. Voices carry loud and high, raucous and grating on my sensitive hearing. I make my way into the nearest of the three bars and order a beer. It's only for show, however. I would much prefer some True Blood however, with their ignorance comes a lack of the synthetic nourishment. I am frustrated.

Despite my lack of patience with this place, I sit still on my bar stool and listen carefully to the conversations around me. Gossip about who's done what, what the fishing is like, how the crops are growing, amazement at the outside world. But there is nothing about Mr. Haysworth. I am even more vexed.

As the night carries on, no one seems to acknowledge me save for the bar waitress who offers me another beer. I politely decline but I can see in her face she'll try again soon. She wants to make conversation with me, discover this intriguing intruder in her lackadaisical lifestyle. I smirk and turn my head away, bringing the mouth of the bottle to my lips, feigning a drink.

Fortunately, the nightfall passes quickly and soon the patrons of the bar eke out and stumble home to their beds. I, for one, am not nearly done with the night and I decide to take a walk around the perimeter of the town. As I am halfway around, I sense activity in the center, presumably from the main roadway. Within seconds, I am in the alley beside the bank, watching a petite female strolling casually along.

Glancing up at the clock above me, I note the time: 3:11 AM. What is such a young woman doing out at this time? Regardless of how safe this town is, people should have the common sense to recognize there are vigilantes (much like myself) who roam the night and make it their kingdom no matter what part of the world you're in. I take a step out, contemplating whether to regard her or not. Her body instantly tenses and she whirls. I am behind the brick building before she even gets the momentum to turn.

Something about her scent that comes to me from the flip of her long blonde hair has me intrigued and I decide I must investigate further. I follow her into the park, keeping myself in the shadows. She sits on a swing and glances up at the stars, the sky a mere sliver through the branches of the oak trees. She's humming something to herself, a tune I cannot name. I am right behind her, looming, hungry for her bloody, sweet and salty in the air. King Bill need not know. I give in to my bloodlust and rip her from her place. She doesn't even get a chance to scream as my fangs sink into the malleable flesh of her throat.

She makes a strange gurgling mewl before her stiff body becomes languid in my hold. And so I gorge myself.


	3. Life After Death

I'm swimming. It's warm and it cradles me, taking my body back to my days in the womb. I am comfortable, blissful even. I never want to leave. Just as I think this, a fire rips through my body, every muscle infused with embers, malicious and deadly. I try to shriek but I cannot feel my vocal chords. I reach up and try to grab my neck, to assure myself that I am not a headless body (or a bodiless head for that matter!). My arms are quickly pinned at my sides, restrained.

Something cool touches my forehead and I stiffen. I can't open my eyes to see whatever has a hold on me. The warmth has faded and my world has gone terrible dark. I start to shake out of fear, because I am cold, because my muscles cannot control themselves. I spasm wildly.

"Shit." It's the first thing I'm really able to hear. I strain to listen harder but there's water in my ears and everything is muffled. I gag as something warm, salty slips down my throat. But it seems to ease the pain so I accept it. Soon, it becomes an elixir, the most delicious tincture I have ever tasted. I reach for the source and, surprisingly, my arms are mobile again! I cling to the cool flesh-like branch that nourishes me, holding it hard to my mouth as I greedily suck.

"Enough!" The demand is clear and close. It holds so much authority that my body automatically obeys even though my mind screams for more. My eyelids flutter and twitch, no longer feeling the heavy weight of death on their doorstep. With much effort still, I open them. There's the shadow of a man above me and even if I want to scream, I can't; I am too exhausted.

"Good evening," the man speaks. His voice is cool and smooth, like liquid steel. I blink several times before sitting myself up. His hand pushes on my back, aiding me in my ascent. I grimace as a wave of light-headedness washes over me, making me feel sick for a moment. The man is now on his feet and in the waxing moonlight I can see him almost perfectly. Tall, short blonde hair, vivid blue eyes, the body of a foreign male model. "It's good that you're okay now," he says, his voice stiff. I cock my head to the side.

"What the hell happened?" I ask when I am able to find my voice, though it is a little rough.

"Would you believe me if I told you you suffered from a fainting spell?" he asks. I look back up at him. He does not look at me, his head turned to look at something far off in the field. A field!? I scramble to my feet and look around.

"This isn't where I was last..." I murmur, more to myself.

"Yes, well, I couldn't have you wakening up and shrieking in the middle of the town, now could I?" His gaze is now hard on the side of my face.

"Who in the hell are you?" I cry, my voice breaking in the middle with fear.


	4. Girl With Golden Eyes

"Who the hell are you?" She reeks of fear. But it only seems to pique the tantalizing scent of her foreign blood.

"I am quite possibly your worst nightmare," I say. Her eyes are hard on mine, unwavering in her rising anger. In this moon's luminescence, her eyes are a brilliant shade of burnt gold, almost dark chocolate. My mind is immediately reminded of Sookie Stackhouse. Minus the gap in the teeth, and the waitress' rounded face, this girl could easily be a relative. I saw that now.

"Did you rape me?" she hisses, taking a step back from me. She smells more of rage than trepidation now.

I laugh. "I may be low, but not that much. I'm a predator of a different kind." I smirk at her and watch with pleasure as she shrinks back. I decide to be honest, to terrify her. "I did drink your blood, however." She stares, at a loss for any words, incredulous at my audacity to say such a thing. Instinctively her hand flies to her neck and she fumbles around for a telltale mark that would say I am telling the truth. "Don't bother," I say, still watching her, my eyes drop to the swell of her breasts just peaking out of the top of her shirt. "I healed the wounds. No evidence of my feast." Her eyes widen.

"Kitten," I purr, stepping closer to her and reaching out to brush her golden tresses from her face. "If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already." I consider glamouring her to calm her down, make her forget all about this little encounter. But there is too much satisfaction in watching her squirm and debate with herself.

"What the fuck are you?" Ah, a different question, more straightforward and ingenuous than that silly question of 'Who?'. I smile slowly, showing my teeth. I keep my fangs retracted... for the moment.

"I have been wanting to ask you the same thing, ma chérie." She eyes me with confusion.

"I'm... a person..." she says slowly, sounding as if she were unsure of this herself.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. She stiffens, her breath hitching. "Is that all?" I whisper.

I am not even glamouring her and she is becoming complete putty in my grasp. I smirk and pull back. She stares up at me, still unbreathing.

"Answers for answers," she finally says, her voice hard. I'm a little taken aback at her sudden change.

"Fine," I say curtly. "What is it you want?" I ask, though I already know.

"What. Are. You?"

"Vampire. Now, what are you?" My voice is nonchalant.

"A unicorn," she says facetiously, her face stoic. "Now, you brought me all the way out to this field in the middle of fucking nowhere. I deserve some honesty. So if you're not going to--" I smile, all teeth, my fangs sliding down, cutting her right off.

"I do not lie, Kitten," I say, still smiling.

Unperturbed, she reaches out and strokes a fang. My instincts almost make me take a step back. Generally when one is reaching for a fang, it is to rip it out. But her touch is gentle and brief. I stare down at her, entirely diffident of just what she is.


	5. Permission

His fangs are smooth, cool to the touch. I press my finger against the tip and wince as just the slightest of pressure punctures my porcelain skin. Before I can withdraw my arm, his hand snatches my wrist, holding my finger to his mouth. And what he does next completely baffles me. He closes his lips around me finger and sucks. Gently. His tongue swirls around my finger and there's a brief tingling sensation. When he allows me to withdraw, I glance at my finger and gasp slightly to find it's entirely healed.

"How...?" I wonder aloud.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, leaning closer to me. I glance up to see the hunger in his eyes and I breath out with unease. He's still hungry, I can see it in his rugged features. He'd give anything to tear into me right now. I gulp. Without a second to spare, his hand is behind my head, pulling me to him. His fingers close, tangled in my hair. His fist presses against the back of my head and his lips are on mine so suddenly I don't even recall him moving.

He's rough, forcing my body up tightly against his. He doesn't hold back as he parts my lips with his tongue and explores the cavern of my mouth. I can't help but sigh into the kiss. It's passionate and animalistic, hot and teasing. But the cool of his tongue manages to bring me down a couple notches. It doesn't take long for me to respond, my tongue finding his, tangling together. He grunts and suddenly forces my head back. His forehead is so close to mine, I can feel him like a gentle breeze.

"Just what are you?" he asks me again.

"I don't know," I whisper. I feel something rising in me. Something unfamiliar. Something that I've known has been there all a long. "I want more," I murmur involuntarily. I'm a little surprised at my words but I don't make any effort to retract them. He's intoxicating, addictive. I come to realize that I don't mind that he's taken my blood. It means I'm within him, a part of him.

"What is your name?" His voice is husky. He released my hair but his other hand stays pressed to the small of my back, ensuring that I am ensnared in his arms. His hand falls to my shoulder and his thumb begins to rub in gentle circles just above my collarbone. I shiver.

"Jessabell."

There's a gleam in his eye and I know he's recognized my name from the Bible. The temptress, the adulteress, the whore.


	6. Intermission

Her name ignites something primal within me. I'm not sure what it is or why but I will not question it, I will not quell the fire in my core.

"And yours?" she asks, her voice slightly breathless.

"Eric," I say, my eyes boring into hers. For a moment I break contact, wondering if I've been inadvertently glamouring the blonde. She remains transfixed, alerted, lustful. "You're awfully trusting." I point out, my voice now it's normal state and I step away, diffusing all contact between us.

"Aside from you basically fang-raping me, you haven't done anything to disarm my trust," she says. I scoff. "Really," she insists, her voice light and nonchalant. "You didn't actually rape me. You didn't kill me. You've been looking out for me since I woke up and-"

"I don't look out for humans," I say harshly. If she's hurt by this, she doesn't show it.

"Well, whatever you were doing... You didn't leave me for dead."

I didn't care to point out to her that I was assuring myself I didn't create a newborn vampire or I didn't inadvertently kill the girl. I didn't need a child to look after and I certainly didn't need the town to start a riot over some girl's death.

"And you kissed me..." she said coyly, her voice almost meek.

"That's just your blood singing through my veins," I retort. I cross my arms over my chest and turn my back to her, walking out a few feet further into the field. She's quiet and for a moment I wonder if she's fainted or turned to leave. But when I glance over my shoulder, she still stands there, starstruck and almost brazen. "I should return you," I say. I walk over to her and grip her arm, pulling her along with me. It will be faster if I hoist her into my arms and run but I'm not so sure what the implications of that will be and I don't feeling like risking it tonight.

"I..." she starts. "I don't want to go back!" she finally cries, yanking her arm with just ferocity, I lose my grip on her. "For the first time... I feel alive."

I chuckled humorlessly at the irony. "And if you spend more time with me, you're sure to be dead."

"Would I become a vampire?" Her voice is purely curious but I still whirl on her, feeling a rage boiling in my gut.

"That is not something you want to be. And I will not be responsible for you. You are just a child. Now, come on." I grab her arm again. She fights me so I sigh and sling her over my shoulder.

"I'm twenty-two!" she objects and I snort. She looks to be about sixteen or seventeen. But I don't doubt her word. Her petite size, only about 100 pounds, doesn't back up her age any better than her innocent features do.

"As fantastic as that is," I say sardonically, my tone almost bored. "The sun is coming up in less than an hour and I don't think you want to stick around to see what happens."

"Do you burst into flame?" She almost sounds hopeful.

I scowl. "Something to that effect." Now the questions start rolling. Do you sleep in a coffin? Where? Do you have a reflection? Do you fly? Can you read minds? What about stakes? How old are you? How were you changed? With much less enthusiasm than hers, I respond.

"What if I stayed with you?" she asks just as we reach the town's limits. The sun is peaking over the flat horizon and my instincts are screaming to find shelter.

"There is not enough room in my coffin, for one. Secondly, that is a vampire's most private place." She seems to understand this for she doesn't make an effort to hang onto me as I begin to walk away.

"Can I see you again?" she calls out to me.

I halfheartedly ponder this. "We shall see. You will find me after dark, of course," I say over my shoulder before disappearing from her sight in nothing but a blur. I settle into my coffin and lie there, staring at the cushioned door. What I had wanted to say was, I will only meet her if she is willing to share some of her delicious blood with me again.


	7. Tomorrow

I trudge back to Grandma's house. I slink in the door and tiptoe to my room. It's already a blue haze from the rising sun and I nearly collapse into the bed in a tired mass. I cannot believe I've just stayed up all night. And then I chuckle to myself. Staying up all night is the part I balk at but I have no problem with the fact I just met with and had been fed on by a vampire. Boy, where are my priorities?

I close my eyes and don't awaken until two that afternoon.

"Get up, lazy bones!" my grandmother admonishes as she throws the curtains open. I groan and pull a pillow over my head. "Your clothes are disgusting. Did you sleep in my bed like that?!" I sit up and glance down at my dusty clothes, littered with burs and other farm foliage. I clear my throat.

"Sorry, Grandma. I went for a walk and--" I pause, realizing my shoes are still at the park. "Shoot!" I curse under my breath, rolling out of the bed.

"What?" My grandma follows close behind me, at my heel like a needy puppy.

"I forgot my shoes at the park."

"How did you manage to get all the way back home without realizing you forgot your dang shoes?!" Her voice is too abrasive for having just woken up.

"I don't know, Grandma," I sigh. I slip on my flip flops that are sitting by the door. "I'm going to run and get them."

"Well hurry it on up!" she shouts out the door after me. "I made you some dumplings!" I grin as I jog down the sidewalk, heading into the center of this town that isn't even a mile long or a mile wide. My grandmothers dumplings are simple to-die-for. Especially with her homemade chicken gravy. I can't wait to get back and sink the moist bread into my mouth. My mind flashes back to last night and I come to a complete stand-still. I had forgotten...

Then I start to laugh. I laugh so hard, I double over and my have to clutch my sides to keep from feeling like I'm going to laugh myself apart. A vampire? Really? Boy, did my imagination come up with some screwy things when it was time for sleep. I must have been really out of it last night, I think to myself. Once I get to the park, kids are already swarming the jungle gym like ants on cake. I trod through the grass and find my shoes sitting under a bench to the left, right up against the swimming pool gate.

As I reach down to grab them, I stop dead, my breathing come to a clean halt as well. There's blood. A fair amount staining my shoes. I swallow and pick them up. It's mostly dried but a little damp still. I stare at them for a minute before a woman I recognize from a few houses down from Grandma approaches me. "I wouldn't be touching those if I were you. Looks like a massacre took place on 'em!" I stare at the shoes before looking back at the elderly woman.

I flash her a genuine smile. "Ah, these are mine, ma'am. And that's just paint," I fib. Her confusion spurs me to elaborate. "These are my shoes I use when I know I'm going to be getting a little dirty. I wore them out for a run last night and took 'em off to enjoy the grass. I fell asleep and I was so out of it when I came to that I just..."

"Walked home with no shoes on?" she finishes for me. It's clear that my explanation rings queer in her ears.

"Unfortunately. My new blisters will remind me to check for shoes next time no matter how tired I am!" I say with a laugh. "Well, I need to head back now. Grandma made dumplings!" That was enough to distract her because everyone knows how deliciously mouthwatering my Grandma's cooking is.

"Tell Martha I say hi!" she called after me, waving her fat hand in the air. I wave back over my head.

My late-night excursion is the topic of the dinner table. I try to pretend to be invested in Wheel Of Fortune (it's a ritual for my grandparents to watch this every night during dinner) but the questions keep coming.

"I was just so excited to be here!" I exclaim as I pile more potato salad on my plate. It's what my Grandpa is infamous for making. "And my book was so riveting... Well, I just wasn't even remotely tired after finishing it. I thought a walk would do me good." I pause to take a bite. "I guess I didn't realize how tired I was when I passed out on the grass in the park! I didn't come to until about 5 or so this morning..." Everyone is staring at me. I just keep eating, my eyes on my plate.

I help Grandma clean up after dinner and then, like every night, Grandma and Mom pile on the back patio to enjoy and shoot the breeze. "I'm going for a bike ride," I announce as I pull a black bike from the garage.

"Enjoy!" they call back to me simultaneously.

I spend a good 2 hours riding around, looking for any signs of a home that might house a vampire. But everything looks exactly as it always has. Clean, small-town, sweet, rural, familiar.


	8. Courtesy Call

"I had a little setback last night," I say coolly into the phone.

"What kind of setback?" my king shoots back at me. I'm quiet for longer than he likes. "What KIND of setback, Eric?"

"Oh, don't get your panties in a knot, Bill," I grumble. "I just had to feed."

"And what did you feed on? There is no TrueBlood there." His voice is condescending, as if he's regarding a child. I am irritated.

"If there is no TrueBlood here then what do you think I fed on, King Compton?" I snap facetiously.

"Knowing you, it was a pretty young girl. Blonde, perhaps?" Oh, he knows my tastes too well.

"Yes, in fact."

"Did you glamour her to get it?"

"She was quite.... willing, actually."

"Eric!" his tone is sharp with little room to play around. I sigh.

"Yes, Bill, I glamoured her after so she wouldn't remember. I wasn't born yesterday. Need I remind you that I am older than you?" I lie through my teeth. Though it is something I am good at so I am not concerned with 'his majesty' assuming otherwise.

"Eric, please," he sounds all too put out with me. I am pleased.

"It's dusk here. I'm heading out to look more soon."

"Stay away from the bars, this time. Obviously the patrons there are no use. You might need to expand to towns beyond Cheplan."

"This is where Arnaldo claimed as 'home' is it not?"

"Indeed it is, but he may have spanned further than just Cheplan. He is the king of the entire state, afterall."

"I'll need to relocate."

"That is fine. I'll make some arrangements for tomorrow evening. I will call you this time tomorrow to discuss your new placement plans. Until then, keep low. Understood?"

"When ever have I made a scene, Bill Compton?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaplan is a completely fictional town. There's no such town in the state of North Dakota


	9. Life Is Beautiful

'You will find me after dark.'

His words are still so clear in my head. Surely, he was a dream. The blood on my shoes could easily have been from any number of other things. But my gut is twisting as I ease down the gentle slope of the edge of the park. I pad gently through the freshly-mowed grass, stopping at the swing set. It's dead quiet. There's not even a breeze. It's not even that late. But being a Saturday night, everyone has headed to bed early. For everyone will convene as soon as the sun rises in the church tomorrow morning. I brush my fingers over the swing set, feeling the cool, rusting metal.

Everything seems so much more vivid to me tonight. The colors, the sounds, the scents that linger in the air, suspended in time, waiting for a breeze to give them the push they need to waft about. I walk over to the slide and sit. Then I lay. Now I'm sitting again. I sigh and lie back down, folding my hands on my stomach. I close my eyes and try to picture the man in my dreams. He said his name was Eric. He had been so real. He had been so utterly terrifying and infuriating and yet... Arousing. He was a deadly attraction. So I am grateful for him just being a figment of the synapses in my brain firing off.

The air shifts and I know I am no longer alone. My eyes fly open and I blink, adjusting to the closeness of the blue hues mere inches from my own chocolate irises. My stomach jumps but I make no motion or sound to indicate he's surprised or frightened me.

"I might normally be surprised," he says in his cool voice as he straightens up. I sit up. "But given your infatuation from last night, it's really no wonder you have waited for me."

"It has nothing to do with that," I growl, getting to me feet. It doesn't matter how tall I am, he still looms at least a foot above me.

"Oh?" He quirks an eyebrow. "My blood sings in your veins, of course you are attracted to me."

My brows knit together unless I realize what he's said. "Ew!" I cry, slapping my hands over my mouth. I drop my gaze to my feet planted firmly at the base of the slide. "I drank your blood?" My voice is muffled into my palm but he still understands.

He laughs at me. "You were quite eager for it, if I do recall. And it was what saved your life."

I scowl. Though I can't deny that when I think of it, I almost crave it.

"Like I said, NOT the reason. I was almost certain I'd dreamt last night. I had to see for myself if it was a dream or I'm just... losing it."

"Rest assured, it is neither of those."

"So what brought you back here?" I question, looking up at him and mimicking his action by raising my eyebrows.

"Curiosity is not subject to humanity." It sounds like mantra. "I was intrigued as to if you would show up as well."

"Well, here I am," I say, holding my hands out my sides.

"Indeed." His tone has dropped several degrees and grown husky. "Here. You. Are." With every word he comes a step closer. He's hovering over me, so close but not yet close enough. My breath is still, my heart is racing faster than he disappeared last night.

"I hear it," he murmurs, pressing his hand gingerly against my left breast. I'm completely still under his touch. "I smell you." It sounds funny but at the same time it's somewhat erotic. "I want to taste you again," he nearly whispers, his lips brushing my ear. How did he get so close so fast? That is a silly question. As is this one: What am I waiting for?

I take the initiative and stand on my tiptoes to crush my lips to his. At first he's stiff but it doesn't take more than a couple seconds for his hands to cup my face, holding me tightly, almost crushing me. I'm breathless and, for once, it doesn't scare me.


	10. Accidents Can Happen

I can smell her before I see her lying on a slide in the park. I stand in the street, hidden in the shadows behind a lamp post, wrestling with myself. I really have a duty to fulfill, not that I care about pleasing King Bill or not. But I agree that I don't need any distractions and that's definitely what this girl is: a distraction. I growl as my hunger gets the best of me and I'm leaning over her in a few seconds. I don't seem to surprise her and for a moment I feel disappointed. But I am also not baffled by this, she has a sense of bravado or stupidity about her, I can not figure out which is which with her.

She insists there is no attraction to me, or at least, that is not what has lead her to wait here to dance with the devil. I supress a smirk as I lean into her. She smells so utterly tantalizing, I really can't deny that I want more than just her blood. If I had a heart, it would be groaning with want right now.

I am more than taken aback when she initiates the passionate endeavor. It is no more than a second that I grab her face and hold it still while I fervently press my lips to hers, my tongue not bothering for permission to enter her mouth. She sighs and her body melts against mine as her arms snake around my neck. She tangles her fingers in my hair and gives a gentle tug. This sparks my primal side and I lift her effortlessly in my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist to support herself though I can do a fine job of that on my own.

Carrying her across the park to the endless shadows beneath an ancient oak, I break the kiss to bow my head and kiss along her throat. She lets out a soft moan, letting her head fall back. She's so trusting, it's marvelous. I'm astounded as her fingers tighten in my locks and she pushes my mouth harder against her neck.

"Eric," she breathes out and I can feel myself twitch in the confines of my pants. I grunt and pull my lips back, my fangs dropping down.

"Are you sure?" I murmur against her pulsating skin.

"Please," she mewls, giving another gentle tug to my hair.

Without thinking twice, I let my fangs sink into her porcelain flesh and I groan as I lap her blood up. I try to be careful not to spill a precious drop but I become so fervent with lust that as I sink to my knees and lie her in the grass, I can feel some of the warm crimson liquid trickling down my chin.

"Ah," she gasps as I push further, sinking my fangs in to the hilt. I can not help but groan at her salty and sweet flavor. Whatever she is... Whatever it is that makes her taste this way, I want to know. I want more.

I'm straining against my jeans so hard it is almost painful. I know I need to be buried in her; in more ways than one. I tear her shirt off with ease. I'm pleased she is without a bra. I wonder... I dip my fingers under the wasteband of her sweatpants and suck in some air as I feel the smooth expanse of her womanhood beneath my fingertips. She's gone without panties as well. I tug her pants down and caress between her folds. She jerks, arching her back, pressing her hips into my hand. I gently palm above her entrance, feel the sensitive nub that so many women crave to have fondled press just above my wrist.

"Oh, fuck!" she snarls as I rub my thumb over her clitoris. I smirk and pull my mouth back from her throat. Her pale doll-like skin and the grass surrounding is stained black with her blood. I may have taken more than I needed to. I can see it in her eyes, she is light headed and she will most assuredly lose consciousness in the middle of me fucking her. I can't have that. So I sink my fangs into my own wrist, my free one, and hold it above her mouth. It doesn't take long for her to latch on, like a baby finding it's mother's nipple.

Between my blood she is drinking and the movement of my fingers sliding in and out of her sex, she grows substantially wet and I can feel her imminent climax hanging in the air between us. It's so palpable I can taste it. Releasing my arm, she cries out into the cooling night air, her body writhing in the grass with pure pleasure. I smirk as I watch her face contort to accomodate the sudden sensation sweeping over her.

"Good girl," I purr, leaning down to suck her lower lip into my mouth. My cock is so engorged that I quickly undo my pants and toss them aside. What comes next throws my guard off and I'm pinned under the petite blonde.


	11. Heart Failure

Stars are exploding in my eyes. I can no longer see the shadowy branches of the trees above me or his luminous blue hues peering down at me with utter pleasure at my own unadulterated euphoria. With his blood coursing through my veins, my body feels like it's in a whole other demension. I'm feeling things with such force and clarity I can't imagine ever feeling good again. I feel somewhat shy about my screams that echoed through the park. Hopefully no one heard and no one will come to investigate. I can't risk this being interrupted. I want more. So much more.

With strength that I never knew I had, I flip us. Now his back is pressed in the cool grass and I'm straddling him. It's clear he never expected this from me because his eyes go wide for a moment and he lies there like he's been stunned. I grin and grind my hips against his, feeling his erection rubbing deliciously between my thighs. He sucks in breath between his gritted his teeth. His fangs are extended and I find myelf all the more turned on by this.

Without a care, I slink down, kissing his chest and his stomach to his waist band. His cool eyes watch me, a gleam of curiosity in them. I smirk and nip at the band of his silken boxers before tugging them down slowly with my teeth. I use my hand to help me, easing them down agonizingly slow. His head falls back against the grass and I can see his chest heaving. I lightly trail my fingertips down his erection, feeling it throbbing underneath my caress. The wanton pleasure is evident as he growls and raises his hips just the slightest.

I can't wait any longer. Straddling him, I ease the tip of him inside me. I'm so wet, I'm dripping down his shaft. I groan as he stretches and fills me. I've never been with someone so endowed before. I inch myself down, trying to adjust to his size until he's sheathed to the hilt inside me. My breath is coming hard now, my breasts rising and falling as I try to catch myself. He lifts his head slightly and glances down at himself buried in me. The sight must be something because I can feel him pulsate inside me and I could swear he's grown a little larger.

"Oh," I gasp as I rise up. I move slowly, rising until nothing but the head of his manhood is sheathed. I flex my muscles around him and he groans. His hands fly to my hips and he's now in control once more, slamming me down onto him. "God!" I cry out, throwing my head back. He raises me up and brings me back down. His thrusts up with every pull of me down to hit me so deeply I feel as though I'll explode. "E-Eric!" I cry, bracing my hands against his chest. He smirks and continues the fast and hard pace. It's almost painful but there's something so delicious about walking the line before crying out from pain and from ecstasy.

"Fuck," he snarls before rolling us, my back hitting the ground so hard that I'm winded. He slams into me so hard my whole body is quivering as he withdraws. His fingers dig into my hips and I know there are going to be some serious bruises there tomorrow. For a brief moment, my mind wonders about what my mother will say when she sees the finger-shaped dark marks maring both of my hips. It's gone with another thrust from the vampire and I could suddenly care less as I feel myself standing on the edge of a canyon, one foot over the edge.

I'm about to come crashing down.


	12. In Hell

I try not to let out a groan that would be too unbecoming of me, or one that might undermine my alpha status. But it's hard to control myself as I can feel her tightening around me. I keep driving into her, feeling my imminent pleasure growing like a ferocious storm in my groin. I can smell her arousal, she's so close to coming; it spurs me on further. With more fervor than I have ever been able to muster, I pull her up so her body is hovering a foot from the ground as I slide in an out. My hips are working so hard, I know she will incredibly sore tomorrow. Perhaps I will have bruised her pelvis with my primal need to reach release.

"F...uck...!" she cries and I clap a hand over her mouth.

"You don't want anyone to hear us, now do you?" I hiss through gritted teeth. God damn.

She whimpers and her tongue flicks out over my palm. That does me in and my body jerks as I spill my seed into her. I don't stop my mad pounding until I feel her constrict so tightly I cannot help but yell. My manhood grows so wet with her release and I can feel her dripping down my thighs. I pant even though I am far from out of breath. A post-bliss shiver runs through me as I lie her gently in the grass and remove myself from her. I lie beside the petite blonde on my side, holding my head up with a hand as my other grabs her waist and pulls her against me. Her warmth is infectious.

"That was...." She is at a loss for words, it seems, and her eyes slowly close, as she tries to ease her gasps into a normal state of breathing.

"You are like nothing I have ever tasted before, no one I have ever met," I murmur, reaching up to brush her golden hair from her face. She looks so peaceful. Almost dead. My chest constricts slightly at the idea of making her my own, bringing her over as my child. Then I chide myself, laughing internally; Pam would have a fit, a tsunami of a tantrum that only my prodigy could pull off.

"Eric," Jessabell's voice brings me back to the present and I peer down at her dark eyes, almost black underneath the giant oak which shields us from a nearby streetlight and the moon. I raise an eyebrow as she smiles up at me. She reaches up and caresses my face with such delicacy I almost do not feel it. She is quite gentle for a human, not only in her touch but her naivety as well. This amuses me and attracts me to her all the same. I raise my eyebrows as I wait for her to say something more. But her words are silent as she coaxes my face down, kissing along my jaw before finding my lips.

She's incredibly soft and warm and for a moment, I fear I will crush her as I ease by body back over hers. She wraps her legs around my waist as she simultaneously snakes her arms around my neck, still kissing me with such tender passion, my heart would be stopped if it wasn't already a dormant, useless organ inside my chest.

Unlike men of the human persuasion, vampires recuperate quickly when it comes time for 'Round 2'. Clearly, she is ready to feel me again. I do not know if it is curiosity or a particular affection for this human but I am gentle as I slip inside her. And for the first time I can remember since dear Sookie Stackhouse, I make love.

The sun is just crowning to the East over the small town as we lie in the grass. Her head is on my chest and her breathing has fallen into such a pattern that I know she is asleep. I have one hand tangled in her hair, now dirty from rolling around in the dewy lawn, and the other gently cradling her hip, keeping her close to me. I glance down at the blood that still stains her neck and I can feel a dull throb in my pallet, my fangs yearning to sink into her once more. But I have taken my fill for the night and I must refrain. My instincts are making me too uncomfortable to lie here any longer, they are tearing at my muscles, screaming to get up and out of the sun's way.

As I get to my feet, I pull Jessabell and her bundle of discarded clothing up with me. I hold her in my arms as I follow her dull scent back to a white house, surrounded by a lavish garden. As she awakens, she looks panicked until she looks up at me.

"I must go," I say as I set her upon her feet.

She glances over at the greyish-blue of the sky and frowns. "Oh, right," she sounds so glum, I cannot help but chuckle. She shoots me a look and I crack a barely-there smile.

I almost vow to see her until I remember my previous conversation with King Bill. I smile wryly as I hand her her clothes. "I am leaving town," I say as she slowly steps into her attire.

Her head snaps up, her dark eyes wide; she is fully at attention now. "Why? Where are you going?" The yearning and fear in her voice is palpable in the morning haze.

"I have a duty I must fulfill." Her face seems to crumble and for a moment I feel vexed. "I did not come here to play house with a silly human," I say flatly, stepping back. Her attachment is sickly and leaves me with a feeling I do not care for: responsibility for another.

"Well, I know," she starts. "I just-"

"I must take leave," I say quickly. I lean in and kiss her cheek. "I did enjoy myself last night." I am gone to sleep the day away come nighttime when I am to receive my orders and move on, continuing my search for the king of North Dakota.


	13. Van Nuys

Home is where the heart is. So why do I feel so empty? I stand in the airport saying goodbye to Grandma and my aunt and uncles and a few cousins. They've all come to see us off but I do not really care for a goodbye from any of them. There's only one person a farewell would have true meaning coming from. And that person is, for all sakes and purposes, at this time, dead. My chest hurts like it usually does this time of year but it is not from bidding goodbye's for the year to my family members. It hurts because I felt something that night that I have never felt before and know that I will never feel again. Until the day I die.

"Flight 502 to Van Nuys, California is now boarding." An electronic feminine voice sounds through the speakers throughout the small airport.

"Well, that's us," my mother says, her voice choked up with tears. "I suppose we better get on it before it leaves without us." She chuckles sadly and hugs Grandma goodbye one last time. "Goodbye, Mom," she murmurs. "I love you." They give each other a pat on the back before my mother, sister, and I disappear into the security line which is only three people long at this point. I do not want to go back to arid California where the boys all say my name exactly the same. Where life is predictable and habitual and insipid. Where I never fail to feel half full, never completely satisfied.

"Jess." My mother wraps an arm around my shoulder. It's then that I realize that I am crying. "We'll be back in a year. It always go fast, remember?" She smiles through her own tears.

"I know," I whisper. But as we take our seats on the plane, I am convinced this has begun the longest expanse of my life. I will forever wonder what happened and what could have been. But the further we fly from the flat expanse of my mother's home state, the further I get from believing what had happened was not just a drawn-out dream. I waited in the park for him at dusk ever night for the night eight nights after our intimate meeting. I waited for him to appear from the bleak shadows and take me in his arms. I didn't even care if he was rough or gentle with me. I just wanted his presence. I wanted him to drink from me and exclaim how delectable I was. I waited and I waited. All for naught.

I lean my head against the cool window, glancing down at the fading greenery. My last thoughts before I disappear into a restless nap are if he could hear the plane flying overhead as we disappeared into the endless blue of the sky.


End file.
